straight from my heart
by alivingfantasy
Summary: "I was never one for feelings. I was always head over heart, logic over love. But meeting you changed that..." Spencer and Toby pour out all their feelings in letters to each other. Set after 2x14. Twoshot.
1. Spencer's Heart

**-:-**

**-straight from my heart-**

**-:-**

_Dear Toby,_

_You probably won't even finish reading this letter; you're that mad at me. And I get it, but there are things you need to know, things I'm not brave enough to say to your face. So, before you rip this letter in half, before you burn it or toss it or forget all about it—all about me—just read it. Please, Toby. This is one of the few times I'm saying something straight from my heart._

_Toby, I love you. I've never said it out loud before, but I do. I know it's been implied, but I've never told you, in those words, and you have a right to know. The one thing in my life, my crazy, troubled, lie-ruled life, that I am absolutely sure of is my feelings for you. Before I showed up on your porch that day, I thought you were a creepy murderer. I thought you and I were too different to ever coexist. And thinking that was the single worst mistake I've ever made, and trust me, I've made an immeasurable amount of careless, stupid mistakes. I remember once, when we were in sixth grade, we kissed behind the school, and we swore to forget about it. But, Toby, I never did. When you kissed me outside that hotel, _("It was so much fun to kick your ass at Scrabble."_ I had fun, too, even though I lost; you were the first person to ever beat me._)_ all I thought about was how you smelled exactly the same. How I wished we could've met under different circumstances. How I wished I could take back, erase, every filthy thing I've ever said about you. _

_I never told you this, but I saw you cry twice. The first time, we were maybe thirteen. We were in seventh grade, and I saw you sitting by this huge, overgrown tree, just crying. I felt so terrible, and even though we barely knew each other, I felt like I wanted to cry, too. Later, I found out your mother died, and I wanted to offer my condolences, but didn't know how. Finally, behind Ali's back, I wrote you this unsigned note. If you still have it, I just want you to know, I'm the one who wrote it, and I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to say how sorry I was to your face. Seems like I'm to cowardly, period, when it comes to you. The second time is one I'll never forget. It was only a few weeks ago, though it seems like a lifetime. It was a couple days after you got out on bail, and I was jogging when I saw you walking down the street. Everyone was pointing, whispering, calling you a killer and so many other disgusting things. At the time, I regret to say, I didn't trust you. But when I saw you break down in that silent, dirty, dark alley, I realized that maybe logic tells lies. Because how could you be a killer, sitting there crying like that? And even though I still had lingering suspicions about your involvement in what happened to Ali, I felt strangely sympathetic. I never told you, or anyone else, about that day, but I remember it so clearly. It was that stark, vivid image, one I will always remember, that went through my head when I showed up on your porch, thinking, _maybe we can help each other. Maybe there's a chance we can work together to fix this mess for both of us. _I had good intentions, Toby, but even I didn't expect to fall head over heels in love, and you probably didn't either._

_That day, when I bought you the truck, I wanted to say it. Those three words. _I loveyou._ I never said them to anyone before, and I wanted it to be perfect. Because, hell, we __deserve__ deserved it. (But we're not a "we", an "us" anymore, and Toby, it breaks my heart.) Toby, I've never been one for feelings. We never talk about it in my family. Gifts, material things, are substitutes for congratulations, I-love-yous, and apologies. I guess that's why I was always head over heart, logic over love. But meeting you changed that, Toby. Whenever I am—was—around you, I felt like my head and my heart agreed for once—they both wanted you. You showed me who I could really be. Not the robotically-perfect Spencer Hastings I was on the surface, but the girl who could let loose and laugh, and kiss in a symbolic truck and, yes, fall in love. You beat me to it, though, saying that you loved me. That was the most amazing thing I've ever heard. And when we kissed afterward, I felt like I was floating on air. Like all my problems were totally irrelevant. Forget cloud nine; I was on cloud ninety. No, nine hundred. You were the only one who could make me feel safe and protected; you were my sanctuary, my safe place to land. Do you remember when I told you that? I never meant to say it; it just kind of came out. But you __are __were the only one who could make me feel loved and wanted and cared for._

_When I broke up with you, when I ran out of that truck, it was the worst moment of my life. Worse than having the police show up at my house, worse than finding Alison's body, worse than Ian confronting me in the bell tower. There wasn't just emotional pain, but physical pain as well. But let me clear something up, Toby. I did trust you; I _do_ trust you, more than I even trust myself, as crazy as it sounds. And I meant what I said, you _do_ deserve someone better. You deserve someone who isn't the cause of pain, and fear, and lies. Someone who you can trust and love. And one day, you'll find her. Someone who will make you forget all about me. But, Toby, I swear, I will never, ever forget you. You, with your eyes (large and glowing and sapphire-blue), your smile (with your adorable dimples that make my knees weak), your lips (that make my heart skip a beat when they touch mine), your laugh (so sweet and strong and perfect), and just _you_. _

_I broke up with you, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I needed to protect you, because everyone close to me ends up getting hurt, all because of me. And Toby, if anything were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself. I ignored you at the police station because I couldn't hurt you. And it broke my heart, hurt me so badly, but it was for you. And that was my consolation; that you're now free from me and all the angst and tragedy and pain. But I did hear you, and I do love you, more than you'll ever know. And your showing up to the police station for me...it made me realize how wrong I was about you, how close you are to my heart. _

_My friends think I should talk to you face-to-face, but I can't. I can't bear talking to you, hurting both of us. "Hurting" is the wrong word; "destroying" is more accurate. What I said to you when you tried to give me that beautiful rocking chair—_"What I want is for you to forget about me!"—_haunts me, because I saw how much it killed you when you heard my words. It killed me, too. Toby, I never would've imagined anyone could ever matter to me as much as you do. I wish I'd kissed you one last time before I ran out of your life, forever. Our last kiss...I didn't know it would be our last, and I wish I could've somehow tried to make it longer, deeper, sweeter...Toby, without you, I have nothing left. Emily and I are fighting, my parents hate me, half the town—or more—thinks we're murderers, and you're gone. I've lost everything, and I guess I deserve it._

_I'm so, so sorry, Toby, for everything. And now that you know how I feel, I hope you can find a way to give me a second chance. You can be my friend, maybe not my boyfriend, but I can't stand the thought of you hating me. You once told me to call you if I wanted to run away, and I honestly once did, a week after you said it, before I realized dragging you into the insane mess called my life wasn't fair. And I put the phone down and just went to bed, knowing that seeing you the next day would take all my negative feelings away._

_Toby, I love you. And I promise, I'll never stop trying to find a way for us to be together. Because I'm a smart girl; I know true love. And what we __have__ had, was true love. _

_I'm so sorry. I know it probably doesn't mean very much now, but I am. And I will regret it, the whole rest of my life. You will always be in my heart, Toby, because as I was falling apart, I was falling in love. And you caught me. You always did. Losing you, I fell flat on my face. But I'll never stop trying to stand up again. Besides, I'm Spencer Hastings, and I fight to the death. And for you, it'll always be worth it._

_Love,_

_Spencer_

**A/N: So. This was a rushed, random idea I came up with, at like 2 am (you know you're obsessed when you're thinking about PLL at 2 in the morning) so it's pretty bad, but review anyway? Pretty please with Spoby on top? :D**

**~.moonbeams**

**P.S. OMG 5 DAYS TILL THE WINTER PREMIERE! Yeah, I'm a little excited...LOL.**


	2. Toby's Heart

_Dear Spencer,_

_You're probably opening this letter right now, your arched eyebrows crinkled adorably in confusion, your gorgeous, sparkling eyes widened slightly. You just want the message, and you want it now. You want to cut to the chase, but I'm afraid this letter will be kind of lengthy._

_Spencer, I love you. I've said it to your face, and you know how I feel about you. You were the one bright spot in my hell of a life, the one person I could trust, and you should know I love you unconditionally. That day you arrived on my porch with a French book, I wondered what your ulterior motive was. You didn't do anything without a reason, I said. But Spencer, to this day, I believe it was fate. Fate that we really got to know each other, fate that, if only for a short time, I could hold you and kiss you and call you mine. And I've never felt the way I do about you before, as cheesy as it sounds. And I can see you in my mind, rolling your eyes, but it's true. Every word I've ever said to you was true. Considering the lives we have, I've never been more truthful to anyone, ever. _

_Spencer, you could have forgotten me. You could have thought I was just a creep, a loner. You could have just credited me as "the guy who murdered Alison DiLaurentis on September first." You knew my past; yet, you understood me. That night at the hotel was when I really fell for you. Want to know a secret? I was awake the whole time when you woke up with your arm around me. I thought it was so sweet how you moved it so carefully, trying not to wake me up; part of me wanted to make you leave it there. Even then, I think we both knew how we felt; we just weren't ready to say it. To face it, I guess. I still remember our kiss in sixth grade; you smelled like strawberry bubblegum and cherry chapstick; now you smell like apple shampoo and an old library. (But you're still the same incredible girl.)_

_I still have that note, Spencer, the one you wrote me after my mom died, and I always knew it was from you. You had this beautiful, perfect cursive, and I recognized it right away, but never said anything. I assumed your parents made you write it; why else would you, a member of Alison DiLaurentis's Crew, ever want to be nice to me? But then I realized, you were different. _

_The day when you bought me the truck was the day I knew I was really in love with you. I remember every detail of that day clearly—like a movie in my head. When I told you that I loved you, I wasn't planning on saying it. It was just, in that moment, I felt like I needed to. I never told you, but you made me feel like my past was irrelevant and trivial, because you, Spencer, were my future. I knew you were. I _know _you _are_. You are the only one I could ever imagine loving, the only one I could ever imagine spending my life with. When you told me I was your safe place to land, Spencer, I was so incredibly happy, because I never could've thought I could bring that much comfort to someone. Spencer, I lived to make you happy. You gave me hope at a time when I was desperate. You reminded me that there is such a thing as happiness, how to put the past behind me. You reminded me just how important it was to trust, because you could've never come to my house, I could've slammed the door in your face, but we made the choices that we did, without knowing what the outcome would be._

_Spencer, you showed me love. And I can never thank you enough for that._

_When you broke up with me, I hadn't expected it at all. But there was a part of me, Spencer, that had feared every day we were together that you'd wake up one day and realize, _what the hell am I doing with Toby Cavanaugh?_ You were always just too good for me, and I wondered what I'd done to deserve you. Spencer, I meant what I said at the police station, about caring about you more than your secrets. I did; I _do. _You mean so much to me, and I love you so much I can't even tell you. I never believed I'd ever fall in love; it just didn't seem possible. But showed me the impossible can happen._

_Spencer, I will never stop loving you. You can't ask me to forget about you, to leave you, to lose my feelings for you. I understand that you want space, I respect that. But it's okay if you lost your love for me, because I would never give up those moments when you still did love me. I went through hell in Alison's murder investigation, but I'm actually thankful for it, because it led me to you._

_Spencer, if there is a risk with us being together, I don't care. You mean more to me than that ever could. Spence, I may be wounded, but I'm not down for the count. My heart still beats, and it beats for you. You can ask me to walk away, Spencer, but you can never ask me to stop caring about you, to lose hope. Because that would be regretting you, and that is one thing I am physically incapable of doing._

_Spencer, I don't care about the lies, about the secrets, about the past, or even whatever the future holds for me. It doesn't matter, because without you, I have nothing left to live for, no one to love. And what does one have, if not love for another?_

_Spencer, darling, I could never be with anyone else but you, but if you find another guy, out there somewhere, I will accept it, as long as you're happy. Because as long as you are happy, so am I._

_Spencer, I will never, ever stop hoping. You can never stop that, my hope. And I wish one day you'll have the same hope again too. _

_I love you, and I'm sorry things didn't work out for us. But if I had to do it all over, I wouldn't change a thing._

_Spencer, just promise me you'll be happy, and I will be at peace. Hope may breed eternal misery, but for us, I will never stop hoping. You're worth it._

_I love you with all my heart._

_Love,_

_Toby _


	3. Author's Note

**Hey everyone! How are you guys liking 2B so far? I, for one, think that it's going to be one awesome half season!**

**Anyway, this is just an acknowledgement chapter thanking my lovely reviewers. So, shout-outs to:**

**lostinthemusicx11,**

**Godess of the Sands,**

**Red Eyed Newborn,**

**Caligirl28,**

**geniusismyfaveword,**

**spoby4eva,**

**and AthenaJanethePrettyLittleLiar**

**for their feedback! Hope you guys enjoyed this story, and stay tuned for more!**

**Much love,**

**~ana**


	4. Epilogue

**-:-straight from my heart-:-**

**-epilogue-**

She stands at her window, looking out at the pristine streets of Rosewood, the home that never really felt like home. The sun is just beginning to rise, the vast sky slowly transforming from black to indigo to flaming red, with sparkly pinks and light purple slashes, like an artist creating a masterpiece on a canvas, for the whole world to see. She feels her heartstrings twang with remorse, as she once had something even more beautiful than a sunrise. She'd had _him._

The letter sits on her desk, crinkled and smudged, as if it's been folded and unfolded a million times over. And it has. For the week since he'd sent it to her, she has read it so many times she practically has it memorized. Yet she still cries every time she reads it.

She has not shown it to her friends. She can tell Hanna, Aria, and Emily are worried about her, and she's not adding fuel to that fire. Their concerned looks, not-so-subtle _'have you slept?'_ and _'do you need to talk?'_s, and guilty grimaces whenever his name or the word 'love' or 'boyfriend' or even 'truck' is mentioned are enough as it is. She hates it, being treated like a fragile china doll that everyone is afraid of dropping, of damaging.

She walks slowly over to the desk and picks up the letter carefully.

_Dear Spencer..._

He'd touched the page, maybe even in the same spot she was now touching it. He'd written the words, straight from his heart. She flashes back to when she'd written him her letter. _"This is one of the few times I'm saying something straight from my heart," _she'd penned. She shut her brimming eyes, but a few tears still escaped, the translucent orbs falling on the letter and smudging three words.

_The _three words.

_I love you. _How could she ever express to him how deeply she felt? How could she live the rest of her life without him?

Suddenly, she realizes that she can't just sit there, in the building she's never really associated with _home. _Yes, it's where she lives, where her family is, but to her, he will always be home. His arms, his eyes, his smile, his voice...that will always be her real and true safe haven.

And then, without even really knowing what she's doing, she runs down the spiral staircase and out the door. The sun has risen a bit higher, flashes of gold and red and aubergine creeping between the branches of the trees lining heeerr street. Her arms pump frantically as she runs, and she feels alive, with passion, with energy.

She never has really done what she wants to do; it's always what everyone else—her parents, her friends, her teachers—want. But right there, Spencer wants to argue with her parents over the most trivial things, to sit back and enjoy her life, to kiss in a symbolic truck because she was overcome with love. She wants to go back to feeling as if every kiss was the very first all over again, to feeling untouchable as he held her, to feel her knees go weak as he said her name, to feel like she had someone who loved her more than life itself.

As she loses him, she loses herself.

The love of her life. Her safe place to land. Her one and only. Her Toby.

Because if you hurt him, you hurt her. Hurt her, you hurt him. Their paths were intertwined, so close they were unbreakable. And then she knows, knows like she knows her own name, that she will not let A win. She may be done playing the game, but she isn't forfeiting. She would fight for him. For Toby; she owes him this much.

Love is a powerful motivator, she thinks. And nothing—no one—will stop her from getting her love back.

As she rounds a corner, she skids to a stop. Her eyes widen, her breath goes shallow, and time seems to stop, as burning blue meets shining amber.

His face looks hard, but she sees something different. She sees a broken boy crying in an empty, dirty alley with no one to understand him. She sees pain as he speaks of a vile stepsister, wonder as he is tossed the keys to a truck, disbelief as she tells him goodbye.

The world is still, the only noise the frenzied beating of her heart.

She swallows, then says the word that defines her heart and soul.

"Toby."

He looks at her, really looks at her, and the love and hurt and want and betrayal are transparent on his expression.

Her hair blows in front of her face, picked up by a breeze. She tucks it nervously behind her ear. His searing gaze never leaves hers.

"Spencer."

The words from the letters hang in the air between them. All they can hear is the words they've written to each other; the pain and desire the letters conveyed.

"I'm so sorry." She murmurs, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Don't be," he replies gently.

There's silence for a moment, but it's not tense. It's a comfortable, breathless sort of silence, where they both have so much to say but no idea how to say it.

"Did you mean what you said in your letter?" He asks finally.

She swallows again. "Yes."

His eyes turn sad. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Why _hadn't _she ever told him? "I guess...I didn't know how. I was...afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way, and...and when I wrote that letter, all my feelings just...poured out."

He sighs. "Oh, Spencer," he breathes. "You know how I feel about you."

Tears prickle at the corner of her eyelids. "Still?"

In response, he walks closer, cups her chin, and kisses her. The kiss isn't tentative, but it's not fiery, and there's a sense of almost-urgency. As she kisses him back, all she can think is, _I am never letting this go._

In a way, this kiss is better than any other they've ever shared, because it marks a new beginning, not a bittersweet countdown to a heartbreaking end. As their lips effortlessly harmonize, she feels hot tears fall down her cheeks.

He pulls back, instantly concerned. "Spence, what's wrong?" he asked in alarm, brushing away her tears with his thumb.

"Nothing," she sobs, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly, never wanting to let go. "I'm just...so, so glad you're here, and-and...I love you, Toby," she blurted, unable to hold it in any longer.

His eyes light up. He leans in and kisses her again. This time it's slow and gentle and sweet. He strokes her hair as she cups his cheek.

"Spencer, I love you too, sweetheart."

"Really?" she whispers, her heart swelling.

"I never, ever stopped. I knew, someday, we'd find a way to be together again. I love you so, so much, and when I wrote that letter, everything I said, I meant. I can't...live without you, Spencer. You're my everything."

By now, they're both crying, smiling through the tears.

"Can-can you give us a second chance?" she asks, reaching for his other hand.

He wraps his fingers tighter around hers and nods. Letting out a sob, she buries herself into his arms, as they tighten around her. He kisses her head, stroking her tangled hair.

"Don't cry," he whispered. "I'm here. Spencer, I promise I'll never, ever let anyone tear us apart ever again."

"I love you," she whispers hoarsely.

"Not as much as I love you."

They kiss again, finally in the arms of the one they love. They now know that they are truly happy, truly content.

As their lips touch, she whispers, "I will always love you, straight from my heart."

He smiles happily. "My heart is yours," he replies, kissing her cheek.

And as Spencer Hastings reaches up and kisses Toby Cavanaugh, the world finally stops turning.

**fin.**

**-:-**

**Okay, so possibly the most poorly written epilogue ever. Sorry guys! I'm just so upset after last night's episode (2x17-poor Spoby!) and just wanted to escape into some happy Spoby fluff. I might do an alternate ending, so it would be great if you could leave some ideas *hint hint* :D**

**So...review? Please? For Spoby?**

**Much love and ta-ta for now!**

**~ana**


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